


Hopelessly Unaware

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bucky is a big dork, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Build, i dunno how else to tag this, i'm terrible at tagging sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A high school AU where Steve is tiny and ready to fight and needs Bucky to protect him. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to play it cool but he’s actually just a huge dork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Bucky hates math

Bucky detests math.

He hates the way numbers make his head swim, he hates words like angle and cosine, he hates the drone of the teacher’s voice, and, excluding his best friend Natasha, he hates his fellow students.

But here he is on the first day of his junior year, leaning back in his seat as the teacher takes attendance. She’s about three names down the list when the door flies open. Standing in the doorway is a short, thin boy with a mop of blond hair on his head. He takes a few steps into the room, then stops and lets out a horrible cough, covering his mouth with his sleeve and scrunching up his eyes. The teacher gives him a look over the top of her glasses.

“Sorry,” he mutters, taking a seat a few desks over from Bucky.

Bucky looks over at the kid. He looks even smaller up close. He can’t be taller than 5’4’’, and he looks almost….frail. He feels Natasha kick him under the desk.

“James Barnes?” the teacher calls out impatiently, clearly not for the first time.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, here.”

He looks back over at the boy, who returns the look. Bucky freezes. The boy has piercing blue eyes and a serious expression, and he arches an eyebrow at Bucky. Bucky quickly turns away until he hears an unfamiliar name on the list a minute later.

“Steve Rogers?”

Bucky glances over in time to see the boy answer, “Here.”

Steve. Bucky tries out the name in his head, turning it over and matching it up with the face. He watches as Steve shuffles through his bag, pulling out a thick notebook and a mechanical pencil. Steve then leans forward, scrawling something at the top of the page. Suddenly a pain shoots through Bucky’s foot. Gasping, he whips around to look at Natasha next to him. She moves her foot off his, leaning in and whispering, “You’re staring, idiot.”

Bucky turns red and sinks into his chair, trying for the rest of the class to look forward, only sneaking the occasional glance Steve’s way.

When the bell rings, Bucky scrambles out of his seat, eager to get to lunch. He takes one last look at Steve, who is standing and desperately trying to cram his notebook into his bag as fast as possible. Apparently he doesn’t like math either. Then he feels himself being dragged away by his elbow, looking over to see Natasha giving him an exasperated look.

“Could you be any more obvious?” she hisses in his ear as she pulls him down the hallway after her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Clearly you have a thing for the new guy, it’s okay to admit it but stop staring, you’re gonna weird him out.”

“I do not have a _thing_ for him, Nat, I just think he seems interesting.”

She gives him The Look–the one that says “Nice try but I can see right through your bullshit.”

“Seriously!” Bucky says. “Don’t look at me like that, I don’t even know anything about the guy. I just think maybe we should say hi or something.”

“Fine, if we see him at lunch we’ll ask him to sit with us, but don’t think I’ll tolerate you staring at him like an idiot and giving me second hand embarrassment.”

While they stand in line in the cafeteria for what feels like an eternity, Bucky scans the room, looking for any sign of Steve. He can’t help but think it’s too bad he isn’t taller, if only because it would make him easier to spot in such a crowded room. He doesn’t see him anywhere, and he follows Natasha to their usual table with an odd feeling of disappointment in his chest.

 

Steve hurries out of the classroom as quickly as he can, avoiding the eyes of the other students as they walk by him. He hates this feeling, the feeling of being so alone in a crowded place. It’s not as if he had that many friends at his old school, and the ones he did have weren’t all that close; they almost never saw each other outside of school and their conversations mainly stuck to schoolwork and other impersonal topics. So it’s not like he exactly misses any of them, but still, at least there was someone. Here there is absolutely no one.

He briefly thinks about going to the cafeteria for lunch but almost instantly rejects the idea with a shudder. The thought of staring out at the sea of people who already know exactly where to sit with their friends while he self-consciously looks for someone, anyone, kind enough to let an awkward new kid join them feels like something out of a nightmare, and the knot of anxiety in his stomach is enough to put him off food for the rest of the day anyway. He stands off to the side of the hallway for a couple minutes, trying to figure out what to do with himself, before deciding to just head to the library and review his math notes, because he feels like a lot of what the teacher said went right over his head. It’s not like he’s bad at math; in fact he’s usually quite good at it despite not enjoying it very much, but he was preoccupied enough all class with his uneasiness about his first day. And he’d managed to make awkward eye contact with that kid in the back of the class, and he’s been kicking himself over it ever since. The kid–James–had clearly been watching him, and Steve can’t quite decide if that’s a good thing or not. He figures there are two options: either he wants to be Steve’s friend and was looking at him with genuine interest, or he thinks Steve looks like a loser and was internally laughing at him. Steve also figures the latter option is far more likely, given the way most people react to him.

He enters the library and takes a seat in the far corner, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. If he isn’t able to make friends, the least he can do is avoid being noticed and making enemies. He hunches over his notes and tries to decode his own handwriting, doing his best to push away all other thoughts. Especially thoughts about dark haired boys in combat boots with soft gray eyes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, chapter 1! I'll be updating everyday because I'm almost done, I just have to write the last few chapters and then edit. Let me know if you like! You can find me on tumblr as hearteyesmonroe.


	2. In which Steve is small and sad

To be honest, Bucky is relieved he’s doing as well as he is in this stupid class, considering the way the material is going straight through his ears without him comprehending a thing. Maybe if he tried harder he’d have better than a solid C- (it’s not like he isn’t smart, after all), but he has other things on his mind.

Every day, he glances over at Steve as often as he thinks he can get away with it without Natasha stomping on his foot again like she did the first day. He wonders where the kid goes during lunch. It’s been over a month and Bucky still hasn’t seen him in the cafeteria even once, nor has he seen him in the hallways; it’s almost as if he only physically exists as long as he’s in the math classroom. Every now and then he catches Steve’s eye as he rushes out the door, and he always gets the same quizzical raised eyebrow as he did the first time. Every time it happens, he turns away quickly, willing the flush spreading across his cheeks to dissipate. He suspects Natasha is onto him, but she doesn’t say anything more, which he’s grateful for.

It’s a shock when he finally sees Steve outside of class, to say the least. A full month of school has gone by and he’s pretty much given up on the idea of getting to know Steve at all. Their one class together pretty much consists of the teacher droning on about the topic of the day while they all frantically take notes, and the second the bell rings Steve is scrambling out the door, disappearing for the rest of the day as far as Bucky is concerned. Bucky even purposely goes walking around the halls a few times hoping he’ll just happen to run into Steve. But when it finally happens, he isn’t prepared.

He’s on his way to his next class, rushing to get to the staircase before the bell rings and he becomes officially late. He’s looking down at the floor as he half-runs down the hall when he thinks he hears a noise. He freezes where he is, listening closely. There it is again. It sounds like a choked out but muffled sob. More tentatively now, he passes the staircase to peer into the space under it. Someone is sitting on the floor under the stairs, their back turned toward him. Their shoulders are quivering, their face buried in their arms. Another sob. Squinting, Bucky tries to make out who it is. He’s about to call out to them when he realizes the person is wearing the same striped shirt Steve was wearing in class today, and suddenly Bucky recognizes his small stature and the line of his narrow shoulders. The words die on his lips and as quietly as he can, he backs away, heart pounding, and goes up the stairs at a full run. He’s wasted enough time. But for the rest of the day he can’t shake the mental image of Steve trembling under the stairs or the feeling of guilt that washes over him every time he remembers that he backed out at the last second when there was a chance he could have helped.

 

Steve knows he’s meant to be in his American Literature class right now but to be honest, he can’t be troubled to be there. Not after the shit afternoon he’s had. It’s the last class of the day and he’d like to get through it just to prove to himself that he can make it through the day even under these circumstances, but he just doesn’t have it in him. On his way out of his history class the period before, a group of boys had approached him, looming over him like most people did. He’d tried to brush past him but they’d grabbed the back of his shirt and slammed him against the wall, laughing as he bit back a cry and swung an arm wildly at them, trying to get in a blow of his own. They had dodged him easily, leaving him to pick up the papers that had spilled out of his bag. He’d been tempted to chase after them, and if he’d been at his old school where he was more comfortable, he might have, but he’s still too new here. He’s more willing to take people on than most people his size, but he isn’t trying to get himself killed when it’s already been such a long day. By the time he’d collected his things, they’d been long gone anyway, and he’d decided to let it go.

Unable to ignore the throb in his left shoulder, which had taken the majority of the impact, he’d rushed into a bathroom stall, pulling back his shirt to reveal a large, ugly bruise already spreading across his skin. The pain is now driving him to distraction, and he realizes that other than avoiding a mark against him on his attendance record, there will be no point in going to class with his head swimming like this. He’s still trying to talk himself into going anyway when he unexpectedly feels the tears start to well up in his eyes. Shit, he can’t be around people when he’s like this. It’ll just draw more attention to him and make him even more of a target, and he really can’t take that right now.

Feeling like he’s about to burst, he looks around frantically for a place to duck into until this outburst is over. Relief floods him when he sees a space under the stairs, and he dives into it, sobs already tearing through him. He draws his knees up to his chest and leans his head onto his arms, biting into his sleeve to muffle the awful sounds he’s making, praying that no one will walk by and hear him.

When he hears rapid footsteps he thinks he’s going to have a minor heart attack, and panics even more when he hears them slow and then come to a stop. He holds his breath, willing his tears to stop long enough for them to leave, but no luck. He shudders as he chokes out another sob. The footsteps start again, slower this time. Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, keep walking, don’t talk to me, he thinks. A part of him hopes it’s someone nice for once, someone who will tell him it’s alright and maybe even be his friend if he’s really lucky. But judging from how he’s been treated here so far, he can’t really afford to let himself hope for that outcome, so instead he just wills them to go away without acknowledging him.

The relief that floods him is overwhelming when a second later he hears the footsteps become more distant again, and as he hears them echoing above him as they run up the stairs, he silently thanks whoever it was for at the very least not making things worse.


	3. In which they go to homecoming

That weekend is homecoming and Bucky could not be more excited if he tried. He doesn’t exactly have a date, but it’s honestly a non-issue at this point. He’s very much bi, which in theory should mean twice the options, but the truth is that most people just end up assuming he’s weird and afraid to commit. He has faith that the right person will come along eventually, and in the meantime he gets to dance with Natasha, who is also dateless despite all the offers she’s been getting since the beginning of the year. Now they’re in his room, Natasha already in the blue dress she’d picked out months before, choosing it to offset her red hair. They’re now digging through Bucky’s wardrobe, trying to pick out something acceptable at the last possible minute because he’s apparently useless at planning ahead.

“Can I get away with all black or is that too much like my everyday clothes?”

“Just promise me you won’t wear those boots, you must have some nice shoes somewhere.”

He doesn’t. The boots go on his feet despite Natasha’s protests. The rest of his outfit does end up being all black, a button up shirt tucked into the pants that Natasha has told him on multiple occasions “make his ass look amazing.” So what if he wears those pants at least once a week; it doesn’t mean they aren’t fit for special occasions too. He justifies it by telling himself the shirt makes it fancy.

On the car ride there, Natasha leans over and says in a loud whisper, “Hey, do you think your boyfriend will be there?”

Bucky swats her arm. “Nat!”

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend, James!” his mother says.

“I–Ma, I don’t have a boyfriend, I’d tell you if I did. Nat is just being a pain in the ass.”

“Language!” his mother and Natasha cry out at the same time, Natasha winking at him.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

Inside the building, it’s packed. Bucky and Natasha make faces at each other as they watch the other students’ lewd dance moves. Natasha grabs his hand and drags him into an empty space on the floor, uncomfortably close to the blaring music. They do what they always do at these things, dancing as badly as possible to try to get a reaction out of each other. Bucky is the first to break, doubling over in laughter as he watches Natasha. As he looks up, a movement in the corner catches his eye.

“Is that…?” he says.

“WHAT?” Natasha shouts over the heavy bass.

“IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

“DEPENDS WHO YOU THINK IT IS, OBVIOUSLY.”

“I THINK IT’S STEVE.”

“YOU SHOULD GO SAY HI.”

At the suggestion, Bucky makes a weird squawking sound and immediately regrets it when Natasha starts laughing so hard she can’t open her eyes. She gives him a shove in Steve’s direction and Bucky resigns himself to the ensuing humiliation. As he looks over, he has to admit Steve does look kind of lonely. His shoulders are slightly hunched as he stares at the floor, looking like he’s trying to blend into the wall as much as possible. With a sigh, Bucky decides it’s the least he can do to make up for not making friends with the guy sooner.

He braces himself and then, trying to look as confident as possible, strides toward Steve. As he approaches, he kind of ruins the illusion by tripping over his own feet, but he manages to catch himself and Steve is still staring a hole into the floor, so he doesn’t feel as embarrassed as he probably should. As he gets closer, Steve looks up and his eyes grow wide. He looks almost afraid. Bucky immediately feels awful and slows down a little bit, trying to throw Steve his most convincing “Everything is fine” smile. Steve seems to calm down a little at that and Bucky continues toward him.

“Hey,” he says when he’s right next to Steve. The music is quieter from over here, and he can talk in an almost normal tone now. “Steve, right?” He is painfully aware of the fact that at this point he’s making a sad attempt to play it cool; obviously he knows Steve’s name by now, but he wants to act casual and not scare him off.

“Uh, yeah. You’re James?”

Bucky laughs. “I mean, technically, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Even though Bucky is a dumbass name,” he hears Natasha mutter behind him, and he jumps.

“Hey,” she says to Steve, “I’m Natasha. I’m here to keep an eye on this one.”

Steve lets out a small laugh and then looks surprised at himself. Bucky frowns a little bit, wondering how long it’s been since Steve laughed genuinely if he’s surprised by such a small thing.

“You should come dance with us,” Bucky blurts out before he can second guess himself.

Steve’s eyes widen. “Um….I don’t really….I mean….I can’t dance.”

Natasha just laughs. “That’s the whole point, let me show you.” She starts making some of the ridiculously awkward movements that had been so funny to Bucky earlier. Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times.

Feeling suddenly brave, Bucky laughs and grabs Steve’s hands in his. “C’mon, you just gotta loosen up!” He hopes he’s not pushing Steve’s boundaries as he pulls Steve’s arms around, trying to get him to move. When he sees the look of shock on Steve’s face, he’s afraid for a few seconds that he’s upset him, but then Steve bursts out laughing.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it, Stevie,” Bucky says without thinking.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Stevie?”

“God, sorry, I’m not really sure where that came from.”

“No, no, I think….I think I like it.” He smiles.

 

To be honest, Steve feels a little bewildered that Bucky and Natasha are suddenly talking to him. He’d come here in a last ditch attempt to make friends and immediately regretted it upon arrival, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people here and the realization that none of them could be bothered to talk to a skinny kid lurking in the corner where no one could even see him. He was shocked when Bucky had even noticed him at all, and when he’d seen him approaching, he’d tensed up, ready to fight back if necessary. But then Bucky had shot him that warm smile and Steve had relaxed at least marginally. The guy had seemed to have good intentions after all.

And now Bucky has Steve’s hands in his and he’s twirling Steve around the dance floor and laughing and there’s just something about Bucky that makes Steve want him to like him and he’s suddenly feeling a knot of anxiety in his stomach, desperately hoping Bucky doesn’t notice that his palms are starting to sweat and his face is flushed. Oddly, despite his anxiety he simultaneously feels very at ease with the two of them. He was friends with the small group of people at his old school for years and already he feels more comfortable with Bucky and Natasha than he ever did with them.

He still feels a gnawing doubt, though. He probably looked pitiful standing in the corner by himself. Clearly Bucky and Natasha are nice people; he can’t help but wonder if they just felt bad when they saw him like that. But there’s just something so reassuring about the way Bucky is smiling down at him as they dance that those doubts are quickly pushed aside.

It’s amazing how fast the hours fly by now that he has company. When the music stops, Steve blinks around for a second, then shakes his head to clear it. “Um, I better get going then.”

Bucky gives him that warm smile again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “See you later, Stevie,” he says.

“C’mon Buck,” Natasha says, “I feel like I’m dead on my feet. It was nice to meet you, Steve. We should hang out sometime.”

Steve fidgets with his fingers. “Um, yeah, I’d like that.” He’s glad the room is still mostly dark; hopefully they won’t pick up on the desperately hopeful look he knows is on his face. He watches as they walk away, finally letting out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding in since the beginning of the year.

 

 


	4. In which Steve is ready to fight

“But seriously. _Stevie_?” It’s Monday and they’re sitting in math again. Natasha hasn’t let that one go since the night of the dance, laughing the whole car ride to her house. As they’d dropped her off, the last thing she’d called out was “I can’t believe you called him Stevie!” She’d slammed the car door shut as Bucky facepalmed, horrified that his mother had overheard that whole exchange.

“Shh!” He kicks her under the desk. Steve could walk in any moment now and he doesn’t want Natasha embarrassing him, Steve, or both.

Sure enough, he comes through the door a second later, coughing horribly again like he had the first day of school. He rushes to his seat and Bucky watches as he takes out an inhaler and breathes in a puff of it. He then turns around for a second and his eyebrows fly up as he makes eye contact with Bucky. Bucky responds with a smile and a wave and is relieved to see Steve smile back.

At the end of class, Bucky sees Steve hurrying to leave as usual. He rushes forward, making a grab for Steve’s wrist. Steve looks up at him in alarm before realizing who it is and relaxing slightly.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“Hi,” says Bucky. “Uh, so I was wondering, I mean if you’re not busy, if you’d like to eat lunch with me and Nat?”

“Oh.” For an unbearably tense moment, Bucky thinks Steve is going to say no. He drops Steve’s wrist and is about to back away when Steve smiles shyly. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just give me a sec to put some stuff back in my locker?”

“Sure, we’ll watch for you when you come in and wave.”

He and Natasha walk to the cafeteria, going to their usual table once they’ve made it through the line. Five minutes go by with no sign of Steve. Bucky knows there are all kinds of reasons he might be late, but he can’t help but feel like something’s wrong.

“Hey Natasha, I’ll be right back, I just wanna make sure Steve is doing okay.”

She snorts. “Knock yourself out, I’ll save your spot.”

Bucky realizes as he’s walking that he actually has no idea what hallway Steve’s locker is in. He decides to just walk in a loop around the school until he either finds Steve or makes it back to the cafeteria.

It turns out he doesn’t have to go far.

He hears him before he sees him. There’s a sickening thud, followed by scuffling noises. Dread pools in Bucky’s stomach as he rounds the corner. Steve is slumped against the wall, trying desperately to stay upright as he throws half-hearted punches in a daze that the group of three boys surrounding him block easily.

Suddenly filled with anger, Bucky storms up to them, grabbing the one in the middle by the back of his shirt collar.

“Back. Off.”

They clearly hear the menace in his voice, because they all take one look at his face and start backing away, despite it being three against two (with one of the two basically incapacitated).

As soon as they’re gone, Bucky turns his attention to Steve, his anger dissipating, replaced by concern. “Jesus,” he mutters, looking Steve over. Blood is dripping from his nose onto his lip, and his eyes are slightly hazy. Bucky looks down to where Steve’s shirt collar is tugged to one side, a ghastly purple revealed on the exposed skin.

“How the hell is that bruise already that bad?” he gasps.

Steve looks down. “Oh, that. I already had that.”

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?” Bucky asks flatly.

“No.”

“Why didn’t you just run?”

“I can’t give in like that.”

Bucky just shakes his head. “Have you told anyone?”

“Just you.”

“Steve, you gotta tell somebody, they can’t keep doing this to you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve snaps. A look of regret immediately crosses his face. Bucky shakes his head at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

It’s not until they reach the restroom that Steve starts shaking. He sees the look of worry cross Bucky’s face as he reaches out a hand to steady Steve. With his other hand, Bucky yanks a paper towel out of the dispenser, holding it up to Steve’s face. Steve winces as Bucky starts to clean the blood off his face. He reaches out to grab the towel away from Bucky but his hands are shaking and he drops it.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs as he picks it up and wets it. He resumes cleaning the blood off Steve’s face. “Do you wanna see the nurse?”

Steve frantically shakes his head. “No, god no, she’d call home and tell them and I cause them enough trouble as it is….” he trails off.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “How could you possibly be any trouble?” he says softly, then makes a confused expression as if he’s unsure of what just came out of his mouth. Steve flushes slightly. “Okay,” Bucky reassures him. “No nurse.”

As soon as Steve is sufficiently cleaned up, Bucky throws his arm around his shoulders again and leads him to their table at the cafeteria.

“What the hell took you so long?” Natasha calls out as they approach. She gives Steve a once over as he sits down. “What happened to you?” she asks. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I just meant–”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiles tiredly.

Bucky answers for him. “Someone managed to get himself into a fight.”

“Shit, seriously? I didn’t really peg you for the fighting type.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t really my choice.”

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.”

The truth is, Steve just wants to go home. Not that he really likes it there either, but at least there he can be left alone. But the last time he skipped class he got a detention, ruining his otherwise perfect record, and he’s not really willing to go through with it again. And in order to get permission to leave he’d have to go to the nurse, which as he’s already discussed with Bucky, really isn’t an option.

He looks over at Bucky, who’s now picking at his mostly cold food. “God, sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to make you miss your lunch.”

Bucky turns to him. “Steve,” he says seriously. “Don’t worry about it.” He turns back to his food, then gives Steve another glance. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”

“Uh, no, I don’t really feel like it right now.”

Rather than push it, Bucky just nods in understanding.

For the first time in too long, Steve feels almost safe.


	5. In which Steve has a tragic backstory

It’s been a week now since Steve first joined Bucky and Natasha at their table, and they’re having an easy conversation about a movie that’s coming out that weekend. Bucky’s seen trailers for it and thinks it looks kind of terrible (it’s a cheesy horror film that seems to have no actual plot), but Natasha insists that it’ll at least be bad in a funny way and Steve is in agreement, so Bucky decides to humor them, and they end up agreeing to all meet up in the theater that Saturday night to see it.

As the bell rings and they walk out of the cafeteria, Bucky stops Steve.

“Hey, um, if you’re not doing anything this afternoon, do you maybe wanna hang out?”

Steve blinks. “Sure. I mean, it’s not like I’d have plans with anyone else, right?” He laughs. It sounds slightly bitter.

“Cool,” Bucky says, trying to let Steve’s tone go. “Meet me at the front doors at the end of the day?”

Steve nods and they part ways.

Bucky waits at the end of the day by the door, trying and somewhat failing to be patient. He’s just started to bounce up and down a little when he sees Steve round the corner.

“Hey!” he calls out, smiling and waving. He thinks he catches a look of relief pass over Steve’s face.

They walk to Bucky’s house mostly in a comfortable silence. When they walk in, Bucky says, “You can just leave your stuff wherever,” and they go into the living room. Steve drops his bag next to the couch and sits down.

“Hey, you want a drink or anything?”

Steve shifts around in his seat. “Um, sure. Just whatever you have is fine.”

Bucky goes to the fridge and returns with two sodas, tossing one to Steve. Steve makes a grab for it but it lands on the floor in front of him.

Bucky laughs. “Aw jeez, I’m sorry, I’ll get another one so it doesn’t explode.”

When he returns, Steve is staring down at his hands. Bucky realizes if he doesn’t break the tension fast this afternoon is going to get weird.

“Hey, so I feel like we still barely know each other. Let’s play a game.”

Steve arches an eyebrow like he always does when he’s confused.

“Okay, so it’s not that much of a game. We just take turns asking random questions and you gotta answer whatever you get asked. Like truth or dare but with just truths.”

“Um….okay.”

“I’ll go first. Favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Vanilla.”

“You’ve got to be fucking joking. Vanilla? Seriously?”

“I like that it’s simple, I guess.”

“Wow, okay. Anyway, your turn.”

“Um. Okay. Favorite song?”

“Seven Nation Army. Who was your last girlfriend?”

“Never had one.”

“Oh.” Bucky waggles his eyebrows, smirking. “Last boyfriend?”

“Never had one of those either, but thanks for asking. I’m actually–I’m bi, so….”

“No shit, me too! That’s cool, not many people are out at school so I don’t really know anyone else.”

Steve smiles nervously. “Okay, what’s your favorite food?”

“Pasta. What do your parents do for a living?”

Bucky’s heart stops when Steve freezes.

 

It’s not like Steve wasn’t expecting the subject to come up eventually. He’d just thought he’d have a little more time to prepare. So he doesn’t really have a planned response when Bucky asks him that question. While he blinks, trying to formulate an answer, he sees Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Wait, shit, Steve, was that a bad question to ask? You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Steve says, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s fine. My dad was in the Army and my mom was a nurse.”

“Was? Steve, are your parents–”

“My dad got blown up overseas when I was in elementary school and my mom died of a respiratory illness at the beginning of the summer. I ended up with a foster family but they’re a few towns over from where I was living before so that’s why I switched schools.”

“Oh my god, Stevie, I’m so sorry,” Bucky says, barely above a whisper, and suddenly he’s leaning across the couch and pulling Steve into a tight hug.

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not like I’m over it, but I’ll live. It’s just–god, this is going to sound so ridiculous, but–sometimes it feels like the family I’m with now just took me in to get ‘good person points’ or something. I mean, we barely even talk to each other at all, never mind–”

He stops, unsure of what he was even about to say. _Never mind about what happened to my family. Never mind about how I feel about everything. Never mind hugging me and telling me everything will be okay_. He realizes this is the first time he’s been hugged since before his mother died, and he leans into it, closing his eyes.

Finally Bucky pulls back to look into Steve’s eyes. “You know, if you ever feel like talking about it–I mean, you don’t have to, obviously, but–look, I just want you to know that I’m….” He stops, looking bewildered.

“Thanks,” Steve says, laying a hand on Bucky’s arm.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure.”

They spend the rest of the afternoon in comfortable silence on the couch, sipping their sodas, and Steve feels almost unspeakably grateful.


	6. In which they watch a movie

Bucky takes longer than he probably should getting ready for the movies that Saturday. He wears his favorite black pants again, which is stupid because he’ll be spending most of the night sitting in a dark theater. He throws on a black t shirt and a black hoodie too, because at this point that’s really the only color he has in his wardrobe. Natasha keeps insisting he needs to do something about that, but he’s not so sure.

He checks his hair in the mirror at least five times before he leaves, running his fingers through it in an attempt to get it to just the right level of effortlessly messy. As he’s doing it one more time before walking out the door, he stops, staring at his reflection. Why is he even trying this hard? He’s only going to see Natasha and Steve, it’s not like they care. He leaves the bathroom before he can overthink it.

When he gets there, his friends are standing in front of the theater and laughing about something. They both wave when they see him and he waves back. He picks up his pace to a slight jog until he meets them.

“Hey guys, you ready?”

They go in and get their tickets, then find seats at the back of the theater where they can laugh as much as they want at the bad effects without bothering anyone. Bucky sits in the middle, with Natasha on his left and Steve on his right. They complain to each other about their schoolwork until the lights dim and the previews start.

Five minutes later and Bucky is already cackling, trying to muffle himself with his sleeve. The sound of his laughter sets off Steve, and Natasha gives Bucky a kick as he and Steve gasp for air. There’s a sudden jump scare, and Bucky bites back a scream. He looks over at Steve, who looks surprisingly calm. He turns back to the screen, heart still pounding in his ears.

Half an hour in he’s been drawn into the film despite how much he’d sworn beforehand that he’d hate it, and his pulse has been steadily increasing as the plot gets more and more tense. It’s the third jump scare that really gets him, and he suddenly finds himself ducking down and burying his face in Steve’s shoulder, making an embarrassing squeak as he does. He feels Steve shaking with laughter as he reaches over to pat Bucky on the head. Bucky immediately sits back up, face warm, and turns to see Natasha, face lit up by the movie screen and shaking her head at him as she laughs.

 

As the film starts, Steve is amazed by how calm both Bucky and Natasha seem. Steve was too embarrassed to tell them when they brought up the movie earlier that week that he’s terrified by horror films, and he was excited enough to get to hang out with them that he’d just gone along with their plans. He feels tense the second the film starts though, taking the occasional glance to his left to see how the other two are reacting. When Bucky starts to laugh at how bad it is, nervous laughter starts to bubble out of Steve despite himself.

He nearly has a heart attack when the first jump scare happens, instead going still with a blank look overtaking his face as he tries not to make a sound. He eyes Bucky, who still seems to be completely fine.

The last thing he’s expecting is for Bucky to suddenly dive down, squealing, and hide his face in Steve’s shoulder. The surprise makes him jump, but then he’s laughing hysterically and stroking Bucky’s hair. It’s softer than he’d expected and he hopes he isn’t messing it up too much. When Bucky straightens up he looks embarrassed, which just makes Steve laugh harder.

Reassured now that he won’t be judged too harshly for being scared by the movie, the next time he’s scared by something sudden onscreen, he repeats Bucky’s motion from earlier, turning to press his face against Bucky’s arm. Bucky had the same idea, though, and they bump foreheads. They bounce off each other, cackling. They look around, making sure they aren’t getting any dirty looks, but there are only about a dozen people in the whole theater and most of them are in the first few rows. Then Bucky wraps his arms dramatically around Steve, whispering into his ear, “Hold me, I’m scared.”

His breath tickles Steve’s neck, and Steve laughs breathlessly, patting Bucky’s arm. He peers over Bucky’s shoulder to see Natasha holding back her own laughter. For the rest of the film, every time something scary happens onscreen, they squeeze each other’s hands, meeting each other’s eyes and laughing when one of them jumps.

Neither of them notice the fake vomiting faces Natasha is making at them.

It’s dark when they leave the theater, their faces lit up only by the streetlights. Steve looks over at Bucky. He’s looking straight ahead, laughing at something Natasha said, his eyelashes casting shadows onto his cheeks in the dim light. Steve smiles even though he didn’t hear what she said, just happy that the two of them are happy. They part ways, waving and promising to see each other Monday, and as Steve makes his way home he feels an unfamiliar warm glow in his chest.


	7. In which Bucky is impressed

Over the next few months the friendship between the three of them grows increasingly close. The few times Bucky catches anyone giving Steve trouble he chases them off and everyone in the school soon learns that Steve is under the protection of Bucky and Natasha. Both of them already have a bit of a reputation around the school; between Bucky in his combat boots and all black clothes and Natasha with her fierce attitude and killer glare, they had made an intimidating pair even before they had a reason to be. Steve continues to mumble that he can take care of himself and every time he does, Bucky ruffles his hair and says, “Of course you can, Stevie, we’re just trying to help.” This always gets him swatted, but it’s worth it to see the grateful expression on Steve’s face when he thinks Bucky is no longer looking.

The semester switches over and they get new classes. Bucky has managed to pull his math grade up to a B- with Steve’s help, and he’s unspeakably relieved that he’s finally finished with that godawful class. He’s now sitting in the library before school officially starts with Steve and Natasha, comparing their new schedules.

“Hey look, Steve, I think we’re in the same art class!” Bucky says

Steve squints at his own schedule, then at Bucky’s. “Oh yeah, I think you’re right.”

The bell rings. As they gather their things, Bucky looks over his shoulder at Steve. “I’ll see you third period, then,” he says, waving as he goes.

The truth is, Bucky is basically the worst artist ever to walk the face of the earth. He wouldn’t take the class at all because he’s only going to embarrass himself, but he needs the credit to graduate, so instead he’d just signed up for the most generic drawing class he could, hoping for the best. Now that he knows Steve is in it, he feels a little more optimistic.

When he walks into class, Steve is already at one of the tables, sitting alone and looking around awkwardly. The relief on his face when Bucky walks in is palpable. Bucky slides into the seat next to him, dropping his bag unceremoniously onto the floor just as the teacher starts talking. After introducing the class and what’s expected of them, she gives them their first assignment. In the remaining time, they’re supposed to pair off and draw a portrait of the person next to them. Bucky raises his eyebrows at Steve and Steve giggles. They get their paper and pencils and start working.

Bucky’s almost instantly becomes a complete disaster. By the time class is almost over, his drawing of Steve is an unproportional, smeary mess.

“Oh god, Steve, I’m so sorry, I swear this isn’t how I see you at all.”

Steve peers over at Bucky’s work and bursts out laughing. “Well, you tried and that’s what matters,” he manages to choke out.

“What about yours?” Bucky asks, trying to get a peek at Steve’s drawing. Steve’s eyes go wide but Bucky ignores him and stands so he can see over Steve’s shoulder.

“Holy shit.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me, you can’t possibly think this is bad. How did you pull this off in just an hour?”

Steve’s eyes go even wider. “Oh, you like it?”

There are no words for how much Bucky likes it. It’s incredibly detailed and lifelike, shaded beautifully, and it looks so vivid and alive that Bucky can hardly believe it’s just graphite on paper.

“It looks better than I do,” he says instead. Steve snorts right as the bell rings.

 

Steve had really not expected Bucky to like it as much as he did. He loves drawing and does it all the time, especially when he needs to push away thoughts of how much is wrong with his life, but he doesn’t think he’s any good. As much as he wants to believe Bucky, he kind of wonders if he’s just saying what he did because they’re friends. But as Bucky is getting up to leave, Steve can’t help but say, “You know, if you want, you can keep it. Like, after it’s graded and stuff.”

The look on Bucky’s face immediately answers Steve’s question. It could light up a whole room. “Oh my god, Stevie, are you sure?”

“It’s not like I’m gonna do anything with it, so yeah.”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin. “Steve, I don’t even know what to….thank you so much,” he says, staring down at his shoes.

“Um, so I guess I’ll see you later,” Steve says quickly, and they part ways.

They meet up that afternoon by the front doors and walk to Bucky’s place together. As Bucky sets down his things in the living room and sprawls onto the couch, Steve continues to stand there.

“What’s up? Aren’t you gonna sit down?” Bucky asks, looking up at him with a smile.

“I was kind of wondering, if you’re okay with it, if I could draw you again? I don’t get many chances to draw portraits from life and it’s good practice and….” He comes to a stop. Bucky’s smile now threatens to split his face open.

“Of course you can, Stevie. How do you want me?”

“You’re fine as you are, just maybe read something and try not to move around too much.”

While Steve is taking out his sketchbook and drawing pencils, Bucky rummages around in his bag for the book he’s been assigned in his English class. They both settle into place and Steve puts his pencil to the paper.

About ten minutes in, Steve realizes Bucky keeps stealing glances at him.

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your reading? I thought you were a few chapters behind.”

“I am, but you’re more interesting.”

Steve feels a blush creeping up his neck and decides to let the matter drop.

When he finishes about forty-five minutes later, he stands and drops it in front of Bucky, holding his breath as he waits for some kind of reaction.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Do you like it?”

Bucky sits up straight, holding the paper delicately and staring down at it, wide eyed.

“How do you do that?”

“Practice?” Steve mentally kicks himself for the way his voice squeaks when he says it.

“I guess so.”

Steve looks over Bucky’s shoulder at his own drawing. Bucky’s long limbs are thrown over the couch. He holds up his book in one hand, but his eyes are turned toward the viewer and he has a poorly disguised smirk on his face. Even Steve has to admit that it looks pretty decent.

“You can have it,” he tells Bucky. It’s worth the hour of effort he spent on it just to see the look on Bucky’s face.

“Stevie, you’re the best,” he says, setting the drawing aside and pulling Steve in for a rough hug. Steve tries to ignore the flutter in his chest.


	8. In which Bucky realizes something

The next afternoon, Bucky invites Steve over to his place again to study. They arrive to find that Bucky’s mother is home early from work, so Bucky quickly drags Steve up to his room before she can make any embarrassing comments. Bucky perches on the edge of his bed, reading his assigned book for English, while Steve is flopped onto his side behind him, flipping through a chemistry textbook. Every now and then, one of them makes a comment about how irritating the work is, but for the most part they sit in comfortable silence.

“Hey Steve? Do you understand what this paragraph is getting at?” Bucky asks as he frowns at the page. He swears this author was writing with the sole purpose of confusing his audience. He doesn’t get a response.

“Stevie? You still there?” Bucky turns around to look at him. He has to choke back a laugh. “Oh, Steve, is the chemistry really that bad?”

Steve has his arm tucked under his head, his eyes closed, with his chest rising and falling slowly. He’s fast asleep.

Bucky can’t help but stare for a second. Steve just looks so peaceful lying there, his hair rumpled as his cheek rests against his open textbook. Moving slowly, Bucky reaches across to his bedside table, where his phone is lying, and as quietly as he can, opens the camera and takes a picture.

The flash goes off.

“Shit!” he gasps as Steve’s eyes fly open.

“What did you just do?”

Bucky just laughs, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Are you taking pictures of me?”

Bucky looks down at the photo of Steve. The camera had gone off just as Steve was opening his eyes and he looks dazed and confused. It’s hilarious.

“I’m sending this to Natasha!”

“Bucky, no!” Steve squeals, making a grab for the phone.

Bucky has to block Steve’s arm to keep him from snatching it away before he can send a text. Undeterred, Steve gets up onto his knees and reaches over Bucky’s shoulder from behind. Bucky turns around and reaches to grab Steve’s side and start tickling him. Steve shrieks, falling backward. They’re both laughing hysterically now. Bucky shifts over so he’s not about to fall off the edge of the bed, and Steve gets back up, grabbing both of Bucky’s wrists in his hands.

Suddenly it’s like everything is in slow motion.

Bucky looks into Steve’s face and it’s like he’s looking straight into the goddamn sun. Steve’s eyes are bright and sparkling like Bucky has never seen before; his hair, which is usually combed back, is falling into his eyes. He’s leaning in close and he smells like peaches and shampoo and something Bucky can’t quite put his finger on. His laughter sounds distant to Bucky’s ears, but it rings out like a bell. The light coming in from the window is illuminating his face, casting shadows from his impossibly long eyelashes as he looks straight into Bucky’s eyes and….

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Bucky’s fucked up. He’s fucked up badly.

He’s gone and fallen hopelessly in love with Steve Rogers.

 

Steve watches as Bucky’s hand suddenly goes limp, falling from Steve’s grip, and the phone drops onto the floor. Bucky just continues to sit there with an odd, blank expression on his face. Steve lets go and sits back, then leans down to pick up the phone. He doesn’t even care that much about the picture, he just wants to make sure Bucky hasn’t broken his phone. Once Steve sees that the screen is still intact, he turns back to his friend.

“You okay, Buck? You went all quiet on me.”

Bucky shakes his head as if to clear it, then smiles at Steve. “Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.” The smile looks stiff, though, and Steve isn’t convinced.

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have made such a big deal about it.” He passes Bucky the phone. “Here, you can send it if you want. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Bucky looks confused. “You didn’t upset me.” He takes the phone, though, and types something out before setting it aside. A second later, the screen lights up with a notification and Bucky picks it back up and laughs. “She likes it.”

Steve smiles weakly. Despite Bucky’s reassurances, something still suddenly feels off about the way he’s acting. “I should probably reread this whole page,” he says, gesturing to his chemistry book, “since I was falling asleep when I read it the first time.”

Bucky nods and picks up his own book, flipping it open to where he left off. About ten minutes go by when Steve realizes he hasn’t heard a single page turn, so he looks up at Bucky. He’s just staring straight forward, the book lying limply in his hands. He briefly considers saying something to make sure Bucky’s alright, but then thinks about the response he’s already gotten and decides against it, realizing that Bucky will just tell him everything is fine again and then probably make more of an effort to look like he’s actually reading. Instead he turns back to his own reading and tries to ignore the growing knot of dread in his stomach.

Steve finishes the section he’s supposed to read for that night, and he sits up, stretching. “I’d better head home, wouldn’t want to miss dinner.”

Bucky turns to him. “Um, yeah, sure, okay.” They both get up. Steve gathers his things and Bucky walks with him down the stairs and to the door. As Steve is walking out, he feels Bucky grab his wrist. He turns to see Bucky drop his wrist quickly, staring down at his own hand as if he’s not sure what just happened. Bucky looks back up.

“I’ll see you later, okay, Stevie?” His voice is softer than Steve had expected, and he detects a bittersweet note in it.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says, arching his eyebrow at Bucky, silently asking why wouldn’t you?

Bucky just nods, turning to go back inside and gently clicking the door shut behind him.

As Steve walks away, he replays the whole afternoon in his head, trying to pinpoint what had gone wrong.


	9. In which Bucky is confused

As soon as he shuts the door, Bucky leans against it, pressing the palms of his hands into his face. Fuck. How had he let this happen? He’d gone into this with the full intention of just being friends with Steve. They’d become extremely close friends, sure, but it was entirely platonic. Right? Apparently not. Bucky thinks back on all the conversations he’s had with Natasha where he’d sworn up and down that he didn’t “have a thing” for Steve, and he groans. What would she say now? She isn’t going to find out, he decides immediately. He isn’t going to say a thing.

After all, they’d become such good friends. Steve needs that, he needs someone to be his friend with no ulterior motives, and Bucky wants to be able to give him that. If Steve finds out how Bucky feels, it’ll be all over.

He wanders into the kitchen, where his mother is standing over the stove, stirring a pot of soup. She turns to look at him and frowns when she sees whatever expression is on his face.

“What’s wrong, James? Are you feeling okay?”

He lifts his head up to meet her eyes. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” His voice cracks.

“James–”

“ _I’m fine._ ” He takes a deep breath and leaves before anything can spill out. It’s so hard not to tell her things when she looks at him with those understanding eyes, but if he says it out loud, it becomes officially true, and that’s not a reality he’s currently capable of dealing with.

He tries for the rest of the night to avoid thinking about it as much as possible, because every time he does it hurts. He’s gotten no sign in all the time they’ve known each other that Steve thinks of him as anything more than a friend, and it’s not likely that’s going to change anytime soon. He tries to focus on his schoolwork, and when that isn’t effective, he settles for turning up the music in his headphones as loud as he can stand it and covering his face with a pillow. He lies like that until his mother bangs on his door, telling him dinner is ready.

What is he going to do?

The next day, he spends art and lunch trying to make normal conversation, but he can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he knows Steve knows something’s up. Natasha is giving him odd looks at lunch, too, and by the time the period is over he’s cringing internally. She follows him down the hallway and asks him why he’s being weird, and he gives her the answer he’s already given his mother and Steve, that everything is fine and he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

He asks Steve over again, because he’s been doing that most afternoons, and he doesn’t want Steve to have any more reason than he already does to think there’s something wrong. The conversation between them becomes increasingly relaxed as they walk together, and Bucky almost forgets about his worries. He even becomes comfortable enough again that he has his arm around Steve’s shoulders like he does sometimes, and they’re laughing together like they did all the time up until the day before.

In retrospect, Bucky should have known it was a bad idea to let his guard down.

Steve says something that gets Bucky laughing so hard he’s about to cry, and he stops walking to bury his face in Steve’s shoulder as his own shoulders shake. And then it just….slips out.

“You know I love you, right?”

 

Steve hears Bucky mumble something into his neck, and then he stiffens against Steve’s side, eyes wide as he straightens up.

“I–” Bucky says, then stops.

Steve giggles. “Why do you look like that, Buck, what did you just say?”

Bucky laughs too, awkwardly. “Nothing, I was just talking to myself.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

Bucky just shakes his head and quickly changes the subject.

“Um, so do you have more chemistry to do tonight?”

“Yeah, but it can wait if you wanna do something else.”

“Did you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure.”

Bucky avoids Steve’s eye as they walk the rest of the way.

As they sit on the couch watching some generic action movie, Steve can’t help but keep stealing glances at Bucky. He wants, needs, to know what went wrong between yesterday afternoon and today that’s making everything so weird and awkward between them. Bucky is his best friend–more than his best friend, if Steve is being completely honest with himself, although he’s not sure he’s ready to be–and whatever it is he’s done wrong to make Bucky act this way, he wants to know what it is so he can fix it and they can move on.

Bucky is sitting further away from him than usual, too, which just adds to the sting of the last twenty-four hours. Usually when they watch movies together they lean up against each other, often with a bowl of snacks between them, hands bumping into each other every so often. Now Bucky is on the opposite end of the couch, leaning away, and Steve feels a lump forming in his throat.

When the movie ends, Bucky gets up wordlessly to turn off the television and then turns back to Steve. “You wanna just–”

“We could study or–”

“Yeah, cool.”

They both take out their books and sit at opposite ends of the couch, keeping entirely to themselves for the next hour and a half. Steve finishes all his assigned work and stands to go.

Bucky looks up at him. “Bye, Stevie.” His voice sounds small. Steve wishes he could read minds so he could just know what’s wrong already, but he knows Bucky isn’t going to tell him until he’s ready, so he just leaves before it gets even weirder.

 

 


	10. In which Steve is frustrated

That was close. Way too close. He’s lucky Steve had been laughing over him, and that his face had been muffled when he said it, because if it had slipped out at any other time….Nevermind, Bucky doesn’t even want to think about that. He hears his mother walk in through the front door, and he quickly slips upstairs before she can come in and ask for the thousandth time why he looks so upset. When he reaches his room, he doesn’t even hesitate before flopping face first onto his bed. Ow, that was probably a mistake.

What is he going to do? He wants so desperately to just be honest and tell Steve how he feels. On an intellectual level, he knows that they’re such good friends at this point that if Steve doesn’t feel the same way he’ll probably still be accepting and they’ll be able to get past it, but….what if they can’t get past it? What if Steve gets angry, or upset; what if he just cuts Bucky off completely because he’s uncomfortable? If he doesn’t tell him, Bucky can still have Steve in some way, even though it’s not exactly what he wants. But something has to change if he wants to avoid another confession slipping out. It had felt dangerously natural to whisper those simple words to Steve, and now he’s terrified of it happening again.

A pain shoots through him when he realizes what his only option is. He can’t spend this much time with Steve anymore. It’s just not an option, not with the way every second in Steve’s presence just increases his affection for him exponentially until it’s hard to bear. Not with the way that, every second he’s with Steve now that he’s realized, he just wants to whisper those words to him over and over, until he understands just how much he means them. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, willing tears away. He distantly hears his mother calling his name, but all his energy is going toward continuing to breathe.

Still lying on his front with his face buried in the mattress, he doesn’t move when he hears a knock, or when the door swings open and his mother calls out in a whisper, “Jamie?” He continues not to move, and lets out a deep sigh when he hears the door shut again, silently thanking his mother for not forcing him to talk.

The next day at school he only has the bare minimum amount of interaction with Steve. He sits as far away from him as he can get away with both in class and at lunch, avoiding his eyes so he doesn’t have to see that look of hurt and confusion. God, he feels fucking awful, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

The weekend is a massive relief. As he leaves Friday he mutters something to Natasha and Steve about “Family stuff, see you Monday.” He doesn’t see the confused look Natasha and Steve share as he storms off.

Monday morning before class, he’s finally cornered by Natasha.

“Okay Barnes, what the fuck?”

“Ow, let go of me!”

“What did Steve do? He’s confused as hell and you’ve gotta talk to him about it.”

“He didn’t do anything!”

“Then why are you being so fucking weird?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Don’t give me that.”

“It is, okay?”

“Look, whatever it is, just tell him, okay? He wants you to talk to him.”

“I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t. What could there possibly be that you can’t tell him?”

He can’t help the frantic look that crosses his face.

“Oh my god Barnes, no way.” She looks disgustingly amused.

“Please don’t tell him,” he squeaks.

She laughs bitterly. “No, don’t worry, that’s your problem to deal with, not mine.” As she leaves, she calls over her shoulder, “This means I was right though, admit it.”

Bucky just sighs as she walks away, leaning against the wall. He stares at the ceiling helplessly. What now?

 

If Steve thought there was something wrong before, he’s sure of it now. It’s impossible to miss the distant look in Bucky’s eyes as he stays far away from Steve. He knows he must have done something to upset him, he can’t think of another explanation. Why won’t Bucky just tell him? As he and Natasha watch Bucky leave that Friday afternoon, the frustration wells up inside him, almost impossible to contain. Natasha notices him trembling beside her, and she reaches out to squeeze his hand. The comforting gesture is the last straw.

“What did I do wrong?” he bursts out.

“I don’t know,” she says softly, and there’s something in the tone of her voice that breaks him. He bites down on his lip as hard as he can, trying to hold back the tears threatening to break loose. She must see the pain in his face because she pulls him into a hug.

“C’mon, we’re going to my house to cheer you up.”

They make it halfway to her house before the tears come in full force.

“I just–I don’t underst–” he chokes out.

She sits him down by the sidewalk and puts her arm around him. “I’ll talk to him, okay Steve?”

“You don’t have to do that, god, I’m sorry, I just–I think I–” Another sob.

“You what?”

He doesn’t answer.

“You what, Steve?”

“I think I lo–” He can’t spit it out. But Bucky’s distance has made him realize just how important his presence had been to Steve since they met. He thinks back now on all the times his heart fluttered and he was filled with warmth when Bucky threw an arm around him or made a joke that had Steve doubled over or looked at him with those gray eyes in a way that went straight through him, and he wonders how he didn’t realize it sooner. The worst thing is realizing how important Bucky is right at the moment he seems to be losing him. It isn’t fucking fair.

Apparently he doesn’t need to finish his sentence, because Natasha’s eyes go wide.

“Oh wow, are you serious?”

He just nods.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“God no!” His eyebrows fly up, knit together in worry. “Not when he’s being like this. And you can’t tell him either, okay?”

“No, of course not, don’t worry.”

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Oh. I don’t know, probably since we met. It just took all….this to make me realize.”

She nods, and they walk the rest of the way to her house in silence.

 

 


	11. In which Steve cries

It’s not until a week later that Bucky’s plan falls apart. Every day he manages, somehow, to keep his distance from Steve. It’s as friendly a distance as he can make it, but the tension is still terrible. Both are fully aware that it’s not the way it should be. The worst part is how Steve looks at him when he thinks he’s not looking.

That Tuesday, Bucky arrives earlier than usual for school, and he has a book that’s a week overdue, so he heads for the library. He walks through the door with his head down, setting down his bag to dig through it and pull the book out.

“Bucky?”

Bucky’s head snaps up. “Steve?”

Steve is standing on a stool a few feet away, halfway through reaching for a book on the top shelf and frozen in place. His eyes are wide and pained and it’s making Bucky feel like shit.

“Hey,” Steve says, and his voice is so so small, the word coming out almost like a question.

“Hey, Steve, how are you?” Bucky tries to say it casually, but it comes out soft and full of concern and he immediately regrets saying it at all. He can see in Steve’s face that it’s hit a nerve and his suspicion is confirmed a second later.

“Seriously?” Steve spits out. Bucky just blinks. “You’re seriously asking me how I am?” Steve continues. “After you’ve been avoiding me all week for some stupid reason you won’t even tell me about?” Bucky blinks again. “Bucky, why won’t you just talk to me? What did I do? Tell me so I can fix it.” Steve pleads, and Bucky sees his lower lip tremble.

“It’s not….Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m so sorry if you thought you did.”

“Then why?”

“I can’t–”

“ _Just tell me!_ ”

Both of them are shocked by Steve’s outburst. And then a tear rolls down Steve’s cheek. And then he scrunches his eyes shut. And then he’s crying, crying hard, the sobs relentless, and Bucky can only just hold back the urge to rush over and hold Steve close and kiss away every tear and whisper that he’s sorry and that everything will be okay. Instead he just stands there, wordless, witnessing the pain that he’s caused the boy he loves. Shit. Shit, this is all his fault.

“Oh jesus, Steve, I’m sorr–” He can’t get the full word out before he too has tears welling in his eyes. God, he’s missed Steve, and seeing him like this now is too much. And so he cracks. He takes a step and throws his arms around Steve, burying his face in his chest. Steve freezes for a moment, and then he’s hugging back, forcefully, clutching Bucky like he’s scared he’s about to disappear into thin air.

 

Steve stands there for what feels like ages, just shaking in Bucky’s arms. They both ignore the stares of the few other students in the room, too caught up in each other. Steve knows logically that this isn’t going to fix everything, that things are still probably going to feel weird for a while, and Bucky is going to continue not to tell him whatever it is that’s bothering him, but that doesn’t matter to Steve, because right now Bucky is here, holding him, and Steve loves him, and they’re both an absolute wreck but at least they’re finally talking to each other. The feeling of relief is about to overwhelm him.

After a few minutes, his tears slow and he pulls back to come down off the stool. Bucky reaches out a hand to help him down and for a second they just stare at each other. Bucky’s eyes are wet and red, and Steve just wants to pull him close again and never let go. Instead he says, “It’s okay, Bucky, you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but please just promise me you’ll talk to me again. I’ve missed you.” His voice cracks over the last few words.

It’s impossible to miss the guilt in Bucky’s eyes as he says, “Of course, Stevie. I’ve missed you too.” He looks down at the floor as he says the last part and continues to look there until Steve reaches up and rests his hand on Bucky’s cheek. He realizes even as he’s doing it that it’s a bold move and he hopes it doesn’t give anything away. He wonders if it does as he watches Bucky’s eyes widen at him, but if Bucky has figured anything out he doesn’t comment.

The bell rings just then, and they both pick up their things. “Let me walk you to class?” Bucky says softly. He reaches out and takes Steve’s hand in his, and Steve gives a squeeze.

“Okay.”

Steve can’t focus all through the next few classes, too focused on when he’ll see Bucky next. He promised to stop avoiding him, and Steve expects him to stick to that promise, so maybe they’ll have an actual conversation in art class today. He’s one of the first few people to arrive, and he takes his usual seat and waits for Bucky. It’s a painful few minutes waiting for him to show up, hoping Bucky hasn’t changed his mind between this morning and now. Finally Bucky walks through the door, giving Steve a wave and then sliding into the seat next to him.

They spend the class making small talk, mostly avoiding each other’s eyes, and it’s not like it was before but it’s good. It’s better than the past few weeks have been, at any rate, and Steve is grateful.

That afternoon, Bucky asks if Steve wants to come over, and he gladly accepts. They stay mostly quiet on the walk there, just glad to be in each other’s presence again. When they get to Bucky’s house, Bucky gets them drinks and puts in a movie and they sit on the couch together. Steve tentatively leans his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky leans his head to rest on Steve’s. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been happier than this moment.

 

 


	12. In which they finally communicate

Over the next month, things slowly improve between them until it’s semi-normal again. But Bucky is starting to hate the feeling that he’s hiding something from Steve. That Wednesday, Steve comes over to study. They spend the first half of the afternoon in companionable silence, but it slowly devolves until they’re making each other laugh about stupid things and they’re too distracted to get anything done. Eventually, Steve looks up at the clock on the wall.

“Oh wow, it’s later than I thought it was, I should get going.”

Bucky walks him to the door, waving as Steve walks away. He goes back into the house and is leaning against the kitchen counter with his face in his hands, trying to decide if he’s going to say something to Steve or not, when his mother comes home from work.

He lifts up his head. “Hey, you’re home later than usual.”

She’s standing in the doorway, giving him an odd look. “You keep saying you’re okay, but I don’t think you’re okay.”

He takes a deep breath, about to tell her he’s completely fine for what feels like the millionth time, but then he stops himself. She’s looking at him with the most genuinely concerned look, and he doesn’t want her to look at him like that, like she’s so worried there’s something wrong that he’s not telling her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, Jamie.”

“Okay, let’s say there’s something you’re not telling someone, and they know you’re keeping something from them, and you really, really want to tell them but it could ruin your friendship, what would you–”

“Is this about Steve?”

“Mom!”

“It is, isn’t it?” She walks up to him and pulls him down to kiss his forehead. “Sweetie, whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll understand.” As she walks into the next room to put her things down, she calls out, “He loves you too, you know.”

“ _Mom!_ ”

The next day at school, he’s quieter than usual, and he knows Steve and Natasha both notice. He sees them exchange a look at lunch after Natasha asks him a question about one of his classes and he just lets out a noncommittal grunt. He knows now that he has to say something eventually. After what his mother said, he has at least an ounce of hope that Steve might feel the same way, so he figures he might as well get it over with as soon as possible, even though the thought fills him with dread.

As Steve is leaving after the bell rings, Bucky calls out, “You coming over this afternoon?”

“Sure, if that’s alright.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at the end of the day then.”

He doesn’t hear a word his teachers say for the rest of the day, too distracted with trying to build up the courage to finally just tell Steve. He meets Steve by the front doors like he always does, and they start the walk to Bucky’s place. They’re about halfway there when Bucky has a sudden surge of confidence. He’s going to do it, he’s going to tell him. It’s now or never. He stops walking. Steve takes another few steps before realizing Bucky’s no longer next to him, turning around.

“What? Why are you stopping?” he asks.

“Um, Steve. I feel like I owe you an explanation. For why I made things weird.”

“I told you, Bucky, if you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to. I get it.”

“No, I–I want to tell you. I have to tell you eventually and now seems like as good a time as any, so….” Suddenly he can’t keep going.

“What is it?” Steve is looking up at him with those beautiful, innocent eyes, taking a few steps closer, and Bucky steels himself. He needs to just spit it out now, before he changes his mind.

“Steve, I….”

Steve just keeps looking up at him like that, and he’s so beautiful and–

“Stevie, I lo–”

Suddenly Steve is grabbing Bucky’s shirt collar and dragging him down to meet his lips. His teeth graze Bucky’s lower lip and he tastes like mint and honey and something indescribably _Steve_ and Bucky thinks he’ll never get tired of kissing him.

 

Steve is ready to panic when he feels Bucky freeze. Maybe kissing him was a mistake, maybe he misread, maybe Bucky will be angry, maybe–

And then Bucky is resting a hand on Steve’s cheek, his other arm wrapping around Steve’s waist and pulling him closer, and Steve thinks he’s going to die of happiness. So he was right, this was why Bucky was acting weird all this time, why he’d been pushing Steve away. God he’s an idiot. But he’s an idiot that Steve loves, he’s _Steve’s_ idiot, and Steve can’t help but forgive him instantly. He lets go of Bucky’s collar to throw his arms around his neck instead. Someone drives by and honks at them and neither of them care. Finally they break apart, breathless and smiling at each other and then they’re both laughing.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Steve says.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“You could have just told me sooner, it would have saved us both a lot of trouble.”

“Well I know that now, obviously, but I thought you didn’t….”

“Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“I don’t know, Stevie, I’m sorry.” Bucky reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, and they walk the rest of the way to his place like that, stealing glances at each other.

They make it through Bucky’s doorway and drop their things and then Bucky is kissing Steve again and Steve’s heart leaps into his throat. They break apart after a minute and then Steve leans into Bucky, burying his face in his chest and wrapping his arms around his waist like he’s never going to let go.

After a few minutes they agree to put on a movie, and they curl up together on the couch together. He tries to focus on the screen but he was up too late the night before and his eyelids start to droop.

The next thing he knows, he’s waking up in Bucky’s lap, wrapped in a blanket and so warm and comfortable he never wants to move. He looks over groggily to see Bucky’s mother peering through the doorway, grinning at them, and he looks up to see Bucky holding a finger up to his lips, urging her to be quiet. Steve smiles to himself and settles back in, safe in Bucky’s arms.


End file.
